The book group met today. Main topic: what to read this season. We had previously decided to read biographies. I went to Barnes and Noble two weeks ago and made a list of all the biographies I thought interesting for us and that were in paperback. I typed the list, about 50 possibilities, for everyone. Everybody picked five names. We went around the table and wrote down everyone’s choices. The name that had four votes was Mark Twain (not my vote). Josephus, a poet/homosexual named Lorca, and Frida Kahlo, a woman artist in Mexico who had an affair with Trotsky, each had three (all choices of mine as it happens). So that looks like our program this year.
We also decided not to look for a new member. We’re seven now with Tybell’s death [the previous July]. It’s the only catty thing we do — discussing some new woman to join us. Every possibility is well-read, intelligent, has some special talent and made known she’d like to be included. But this one “will never shut up and listen,” this one “has a voice that makes me cringe” and this one “won’t commit herself to coming every week.” Listen, the group came together 22 years ago. I’ve been included for 12 years. The chemistry among us is so special — and so fixed — that we’re all afraid to introduce anyone non-catalytic.
